A recent magazine survey indicated that courtesy has diminished in public places in the United States. People interviewed said they thought that we are no longer as polite as we used to be and this has contributed to the decline of what they called "the quality of life."

Well, the quality of my life is just fine. I don't trust surveys and I'm not sure it's true that we aren't as polite as ever. No way to tell, of course, but I still see a lot of people being courteous. Men often hold the door open for a woman. (This ought to make women mad, not pleased, but that's another matter.) In the office where I work, people in the hallway or at the elevator in the morning usually say "Good morning" as though they meant it. They're polite and it makes the day better.

There may be something false about manners that puts us off being polite. Phrases like, "How do you do?" or "Pleased to meet you" don't ring true. They're devoid of meaning or sentiment and some people don't use them. I don't.

Even though I think we're as polite as ever, we may have diminished the importance of some of the good words like "please" and "thank you" by using them too often. Sometimes they're just fillers in a conversation. "Have a nice day" doesn't really mean much. No one gives a serious answer to "How are you?" There isn't time in the day to tell everyone who asks how you are.

Computers have contributed to the weakening of words like "please" and "thank you." When I start up my computer, it says, "PLEASE WAIT" or "THANK YOU" when it's proceeding with some function that takes time. My old typewriter had the good taste not to say anything.

We all get artificially polite recorded messages on the telephone. "We're sorry we are unable to come to the phone right now." They're probably out somewhere having a good time. It's a dumb message. The real message is something like: "Not here. Call back later."

We got off on the wrong foot years ago when some early-day Miss Manners decided we should start all our letters, "Dear Sir," "Dear Mr. Rooney" or "Dear Andy." I got a letter yesterday from the New York State DMV telling me I had to renew the registration for my car. The letter started with, "Dear Mr. Rooney." I'm just not that close to anyone in the DMV.

It would be better if we were more honest than polite about everything but that isn't going to happen. It would mean that we'd all have to tell the truth all the time. The truth hurts so often that we avoid it. We're polite.

Courtesy is sometimes artificial. We lie in order not to hurt someone's feelings by telling the truth. We don't say, "Boy, you got a bad haircut" to someone who just came from the barber, but it would be a better world if we were all less diplomatic and more direct. If we regularly said what we really think instead of what we think will sound good, people would get used to it and adjust their reaction to the facts and not to a statement we made that they know is not the whole truth.

One of my grandchildren, who does not read this column, sent me something he'd written for a class that I thought was poor. What do I do? I was pleased that he cared enough about what I thought to send the piece to me and I wanted to like it but I did not. What do I say? I lie.

In bed that night, I got wondering whether I said the right thing to my grandson. Should I have been honest and direct and told him his writing was poor, or should I have encouraged him by saying it was good when it wasn't?

Andy Rooney's column is distributed by Tribune Media Services, Inc.